


Wrong Door

by LadyFrost (orphan_account)



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, disabled Bucky, please check the notes!, this has been uploaded before but I'm re-writing it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 10:32:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2809169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyFrost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finds himself confronted with someone moving into the flat opposite from his, and he really didn't like that. At first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this story has been uploaded before, but I wasn't happy with what I did to the plot. That's why I decided to re-write it. Currently I plan this fic to have 8-10 chapters +/- a few... there will also be no smut, so if you're looking for that, you might want to check out another story :)  
> Reviews and constructive criticism would be appreciated! Enjoy!

"Fucking elevator."

Steve turned around and eyed the staircase. He would have to walk up all eleven floors to get to his flat.

_Overkill._

His lungs didn't like him and he didn't like his lungs, because they made him stop every so often, threatening to just give up on him. He pulled his rucksack off his shoulders and rummaged around with clumsy fingers until he finally found his inhalator.

Sometimes he genuinely wondered why he hadn't died as a child. That would've been easier than the life he had to live now...

"Whatever," he shoved the inhalator into the back pocket of his jeans and continued his way up the stairs.

The amount of relief he felt when he finally reached his door was insane and he jammed his keys into the lock, slamming the door behind him once he stepped inside. It took him another moment or two to catch his breath again so he was able to take off his shoes and jacket.

If it hadn't been so late already, he wouldn't have hesitated to wake the housekeeper, but he didn't feel like waking the old man at this unholy hour. Even though... -but no, he couldn't blame poor Mr.Jenkins for the terrible state his health was in.

He flung his rucksack aside and slouched to the kitchen, raiding the fridge for something edible before he made himself comfortable on his shabby couch.

Not that he minded it being shabby, not at all. He loved his flat. It was spacious and cheap, so he wouldn't complain. Sure, it could use fresh paint on the walls and the floor was creaking in several spaces, but he loved the huge windows and the gorgeous view he had from up here. And the best thing - nobody was living above him (because there simply was no other floor) and he had the whole 11th floor for himself too. Nobody ever wanted to move into the flat opposite from his and he liked it like that.

It wasn't like he was anti-social or anything, he just preferred to be alone and have his privace. He as enough people at work every day, anyways. Besides, people usually ignored him, seeing that he wasn't particularly handsome and women obvioulsy preferred tall, beefy man and his poor health didn't make things better either.

Steve sighed heavily and grabbed the remote control next to him, zapping through the channels until he found something mildly interesting.

-

Something scratched against his door and he startled awake, blinking sleepily. The only light was coming from the TV and he scrambled to his feet to switch on the light when he heard the noise again.

Did someone try to break into his flat?!

It sounded like something metallic was scraping against the lock and Steve dashed to the kitchen to grab a knife. Just to be sure.

A couple of moments passed in silence and then he heard a loud curse and someone kicking against the door, causing the wood to groan in protest. Steve frowned.

Burglars wouldn't try to kick in a door, would they? At least they would try to be a bit less loud... right? Steve had no clue how the brain of a burglar worked, to be honest.

"Hello," he called out and listened. It was silent again, then-

"Ey, you punk! What are you doing inside my flat!?"

He didn't know the voice. However, _this_ was _his_ flat.

Curious as he was, he put the knife aside and walked over to pull the door open, almost being knocked over by the man looming outside.

"Excuse me, sir, but this is my flat. Not yours."

The man swayed slightly and he seemed to have trouble to focus on Steve. Drunk. Obviously.

"You gotta be kidding me."

Steve shook his head and hoped that the other man wouldn't loose his balance, because there was no way that Steve could help him to his feet again. He looked the stranger up and down and, to his astonishment, saw that he had a metal hand.

"Lemme in."

Said metal hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him aside, almost knocking him into the wall.

"Hey! Mister! You have to get out!"

The stranger grunted something and walked down the hall and straight through the living room to Steve's bedroom.

Steve hurried after him and decided to call the police, because he wouldn't have a stranger in his flat. _No. Way._

The man kicked his shoes off and settled down on the bed, curling up in the middle of it. His dark hair in stark contrast with the white sheets and the metal hand glowing faintly in the light that shone through the window.

"Uh... Can you please get out of my bed?"

Grey-blue eyes found his and looked at him for a moment before they closed again.

"Boy. Listen. 'M tired..."

Boy?! He was 25, not a _boy_. Steve snorted and shook his head.

"Yeah. Whatever. This is _my_ home and _my_ bed, so please get up and leave."

He got no answer, but a deep, rumbling snore filled the air a second later.

_Great_.

He rubbed his face with both hands, then eyed the stranger on his bed wearily.

Maybe he shouldn't call the police. That dude really seemed too drunk to go anywhere and as long as he was knocked out there was nothing to fear.

-

Something hard prodded his side and he growled, turning around in order to get away, but knocked into something solid instead.

A body.

"Woah!"

Steve scrambled out of the bed and found himself sitting on the floor, staring at the stranger in his bed.

"What-?"

It took him a moment, before it all came back to him. Last night that stranger had just come into his flat and crashed on his bed... but how the hell did Steve end up next to him!?

The stranger laughed, a sound that made Steve's spine tingle in a pleasant way.

"Calm down boy. Nothing happened. You just suddenly, in the middle of the night, snuggled into bed next to me. I was too drunk to do anything, really."

Steve felt himself blush and opened his mouth to reply something, but no sound came out. The stranger laughed again.

"How about I make us breakfast?"

-

His mouth was watering and he quickly grabbed his plate of bacon and eggs, but still eyed the stranger wearily.

"Who are you?"

"James, but friends call me Bucky... So you can call me whatever you want--?"

"Steve," he managed to mumble around a mouthful of bacon.

Bucky smiled, "Yeah, you look like a Steve."

Steve frowned, but didn't inquire any further.

"You know, I'm actually about to move inside the flat opposite from yours. No idea why I took the wrong door last night... Too much Tequila, I guess."

Well, that was news. News Steve really didn't like, because it meant that he would have to give up his solitude on the 11th floor.

"How come I've never seen you before?"

Bucky sat down as well and took a few bites before he answered.

"Like I said, I am just moving in. Didn't have any time to introduce myself."

"Maybe you should've done so. Wouldn't have freaked me out as much as it did this way."

He sounded more mean than he intended to, but all he could think about was, that he didn't want a next door neighbour. No matter how handsome he might've been...

Bucky grinned sheepishly, "I didn't do anything inappropriate, did I?"

Steve quickly shook his head and looked down at his plate again, trying to stay angry at the other man. That smile was just so very infectious. And not just the smile... Bucky really was attractive. Steve felt himself blush and kept hoping against hope that his opposite wouldn't notice.

That deep, rich laughter filled the air again and it caused Steve to blush even more.

"Should I have done something inappropriate?"

He had no idea what to say so he kept his mouth shut, concentrating on eating instead. Thankfully, Bucky decided to let it be for the time being and started chatting about the troubles he'd had when moving in.

"That old Jerkins... Name's fitting, really, he _is_ a jerk."

Steve chuckled, "Why? What did he do?"

"Told me I couldn't bring my piano and my guitar. That he doesn't like _'those people who make music'_... Saying we're all drug addicts and scum."

"He was always nice to me..."

Bucky shrugged, "He doesn't have to be nice to me. As long as he doesn't cause me any troubles, I am fine with him being an asshole."

"Sounds legit."

Steve was just about to finish the last of his breakfast when Bucky got to his feet.

"You leaving?"

He nodded and Steve felt himself pout against his will. What was his brain thinking?!

"Aw, don't look like that. You know where to find me."

Bucky winked at Steve and then sauntered out of the kitchen without another word.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Natasha was sitting opposite from him, looking lovely as always and her hair swept back into a loose ponytail. Now she was gaping at him, her eyes wide.

"He didn't!?"

Steve nodded, "He did. He actually pushed me aside, walked to my bedroom and fell asleep on _my bed_."

She laughed and took a sip of her drink, shaking her head slightly.

"Well. And then?"

"What then?"

She rolled her eyes and leaned over, looking up at him through her lashes, a broad smile lingering on her red lips.

"Oh Stevie, baby, you don't want to tell me that nothing happened."

His jaw dropped when he grasped the full meaning of her words.

"Natasha!"

Her smile grew bigger and she sat back again, "Yes. That is my name."

Steve snorted, "Nothing happened! He just fell asleep!"

"So?"

She raised an eyebrow and made him feel like an idiot, but Steve decided to drop the subject. If Natasha was blaming him for not seizing his chance when Bucky had been in his bed, then she would stick with her decision. She just was that stubborn.

He loved her anyways.

"Are you going to see him again?"

Steve shrugged.

He really wasn't sure if he would meet up with his new neighbour. Their first meeting had been more than awkward, really, and Steve had no idea what to make of the feelings he had when just thinking back to it. The way Bucky had looked at him, his rumbling laughter... the smell of him that still clung to Steve's sheets.

A groan found it's way out of his mouth and Natasha pursed her lips, watching him closely.

"You're crushing."

"I am not! I am terribly pissed that he moved into the flat on my floor. My floor, Natasha. Mine." His cheeks felt as if they were on fire and he quickly hid his face behind his hands, feeling like a six-year old.

She just laughed at that and reached over the table to pull his hands away.

"It's cool. You say he's kinda hot, so what's the matter? Even though he moved in on _your_ floor."

"Look at me, Nat."

Bucky looked kinda hot, that was true, but Steve just looked...

"Steven."

That made him look up and she gave him a warm smile, "Don't sell yourself short! I mean, you have so many good qualities. I doubt I've ever met a dude who was so selfless and caring. Also, you really have the most amazing blue eyes and let's not forget how talented you are! You're worth it."

"You're making me blush..."

She clucked her tongue, "No I don't, because you won't fucking believe me."

He really couldn't understand why it made her so angry. Steve was over the time when he was unhappy with not being good enough, but he had gotten over it. He was okay. He could live with not even being average and with women (and men) ignoring him, acting as if he wasn't there at all.

"Why won't you ask him out? I mean, the worst that can happen is that he says 'no'."

"I dunno..."

"Is it because of his prothesis?"

"What? - No!"

Nat gave him a look, "Are you sure? And now don't tell me it is because he moved in opposite from you, even though I can see how that could be a problem. Would be really awkward if it didn't work out.

"It's not because of that, no... You would have to see him to understand why I am being so hesitant."

"Is that him?"

Steve whipped around in his seat when she pointed to the entrance of the bar and his heart jumped up into his throat. He nodded.

"Good looking fellow. Although that's not just a metal hand-"

"It's his whole arm. I can see, yes."

While he had been at Steve's flat, Bucky had been wearing a long sleeved shirt and Steve had assumed that his arm was still intact...

"But God, he's really handsome. Steve! You have to seize this chance around the neck."

Steve chuckled at Natasha's awestruck expression and nodded his head once.

Bucky really was a nice sight to look at. With his shoulder lenght, dark hair and those eyes...

Those eyes were looking at him right then and Steve forgot how to breath for a moment.

"Hey Steve!"

Bucky waved at him and strolled over, another man following him.

"Wouldn't have thought to see you here of all places. Who's this lovely lady?"

He glanced over at Natasha who smiled at him and batted her lashes, "I am Natasha."

Bucky reached out and took her hand, placing a kiss on top of it, "What a pleasure to meet you Natasha, I am Bucky."

She glanced over at Steve, grinning now.

"I know who you are."

Bucky looked at Steve as well, who wished for a hole in the floor to swallow him from the surface of the earth, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from Bucky's eyes. At least not until the man behind Bucky cleared his throat.

"Oh, right," Bucky laughed and gestured at his friend, "This is Sam Wilson, a close friend."

They shook hands and the two of them pulled chairs over to sit with Steve and Natasha.

-

It hadn't been long before Natasha and Sam had left, claiming that they wanted to go to another club. Natasha loved dancing and Sam seemed to be enthusiastic enough to join her. So it came that Steve and Bucky were alone, getting closer with every passing minute, although steve kept telling himself that they should take their time.

Some shots of Tequila later, Bucky was considerably drunk and had his arm - the flesh one - slung around Steve's shoulder.

"You're cute, you know that? You're so small and everything, but it seems like you have a massive heart in that tiny chest of yours."

Steve laughed and tried to shrug the compliment off, because he knew that Bucky was drunk, but it was nice anyways.

"Thank you."

Bucky hummed and nuzzled the side of Steve's neck with his nose, his breath hot against Steve's skin.

"And you smell fantastic. Mh~, where have you been all my life?"

Steve's face felt like it was on fire and it wasn't the only part of his body reacting to how close Bucky was.

"Okay, Bucky, you're terribly drunk... I think I should get you home, huh?"

" 'M not drunk, punk."

He laughed and Steve's breathing hitched when Bucky's lips brushed over his skin in the process.

"That rhymed! Did you here that Stevie?"

Steve had to laugh at that too and tried to free himself of Bucky's arm.

"Come now. Let's get you home."

He somehow managed to pull Bucky out of his chair and they stumbled out of the bar together and into the cool night.

Steve shivered involuntarily and wished he had brought a jacket along, but just as this thought crossed his mind, warm, soft leather engulfed his shoulders.

"Can't let you catch a cold, can I?"

Bucky glanced down at him, a bit cross-eyed, but beautiful nonetheless.

"Thanks."

Steve pulled the jacket a bit tighter around himself and couldn't keep himself for inhaling deeply, taking in Bucky's scent.

They walked a few steps and then, totally out of the blue, Bucky's arm snuck around his middle, pulling Steve into his side.

"D'you mind?"

Steve let go of the breath he'd been holding and shook his head, "No."

"Good... Just tell me when it get's too cold... Damn metal won't hold heat for too long."

"Okay."

Several cabs rushed past, but they preferred to walk home, maybe just so they could stay close without feeling watched. Bucky stumbled from time to time, but never lost his balance, although it made him laugh every single time.

Steve enjoyed his presence, but still wasn't sure what he was to make of it.

"Wanna know how I got it?"

He looked up at Bucky who was glancing down the street.

"What?"

"The arm," he gently squeezed Steve's waist to emphasize his words.

"If you want to tell me...?"

Bucky nodded, "Yeah. Y'know, some secret agency kidnapped me when I was fifteen and they cut my arm off to replace it with this thing... I've worked as an assassin this past twelve years."

Steve frowned, not sure if he was supposed to laugh or not, but by the time he had his mind made up, Bucky laughed out loud and had to stop and double over.

"You're an idiot."

Steve wanted to stay serious, but he couldn't keep himself from grinning.

Bucky wiped his eyes and straightened up again, "Sorry. I love to tell people this story."

Steve shook his head and Bucky wrapped his arm around him again and they continued their way.

"No... I actually lost my arm in a car accident and went without it for a couple of years until I met a guy named Tony Stark... This prothesis is the first of it's kind and I am sorta like the one to test it for Stark."

"And it worked out well so far?"

Bucky just nodded and they walked up to the building they both were living in.

"Ah man, Jerkins still didn't repair the elevator!"

Steve felt his heart sink. He didn't like the idea of Bucky seeing how poor his health really was. Maybe he should just wait till Bucky was gone...? But it would look stupid if he stayed there when he really had to go upstairs.

"C'mere princess."

Before Steve could react in any way, Bucky swooped him up into his arms, literally like a prince would do with a princess, and started to walk upstairs.

"Let me down! I can walk."

"You just looked so crestfallen when you saw that the elevator is still out of order. Thought I could carry you upstairs. You're as light as a feather."

"It makes me feel like a girl."

Bucky looked down at him, face suddenly all serious.

"You're not a girl Steve."

That brought a tiny smile to his lips and he stopped protesting.

It wasn't that bad a feeling, really. Actually it was rather nice to rest in Bucky's arms, snuggled close to his chest... Steve thought that could get used to it.

Up on the last floor, Bucky let him down in front of his door, but didn't leave then.

Steve was fishing for his keys and unlocked the door once he found them, but Bucky grabbed his wrist before he could walk inside.

"Wait."

Steve turned to look at him, "Yeah?"

"This might sound creepy, but I'd really like to – uh – I dunno – to go and grab a drink with you again. Or maybe go out for dinner or something like that... Just – I really enjoy your company."

Steve looked up at the other man, still not sure if he wanted to go down that road or not.

"We can talk about that, yeah."

Bucky smiled, his eyes alight with joy.

"Cool. Well, then... Good night Steve."

"Good night."

He waited until Bucky had disappeared into his own flat and then walked inside, slowly closing the door behind himself. Just then he realized that Bucky's jacket was still slung around his shoulders and he smiled, thinking that may be a hint that he should go and see Bucky again. And maybe – just maybe – Natasha had been right with telling him that he should seize that chance around the neck.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a completely new chapter! Hope you like it :)

"Babe?"

Steve turned to look at Natasha who was sprawled all over his couch, casually eating all of his Oreo's.

"Yeah?"

"What 'cha drawing?"

He shrugged, looked down at his sketchbook and then back up at her.

"Nothing in particular."

She raised one eyebrow at him, a smirk on her lips.

"Yeah. And is that 'nothing in particular' your neighbor?"

He rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Nat."

"So it is."

She giggled and then grabbed the remote control, suddenly very interested in what seemed to be a soap opera.

Steve ignored it for a while and kept doodling around in his sketchbook, before he had enough of what was on the TV.

"Nat, can you switch the channel, maybe? This is terrible."

"Nope. You invited me for this sleepover, I am in control of the TV. You know the rules, honey bun."

He sighed wearily, put his drawing utensils aside and got to his feet, stiffling a yawn.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever. I have to bring Bucky his jacket anyways."

As he glanced over while leaving the living room, he saw that Natasha was smiling in a self-satisfied way that made him shake his head. It was so typical for her. She was doing everything to hook him up with Bucky.

Ever since they had met a couple of years back, Natasha was trying to hook him up with someone. They had been out together so often that some of their friends had actually thought they were a couple.

As if... Gorgeous Natasha Romanov would never want a guy like Steve. She said otherwise, but he knew how it really was and that was okay.

"Steve?"

"Huh?"

"Have fun. Rememeber I love you."

"Ah. Love you too."

 

He stood in front of Bucky's door, unsure wheter he should knock or not... He had to, though, because he really had to give Bucky his jacket back. Steve raised his hand and gently knocked, taking a step away from the door again.

It took only a moment before Bucky pulled the door open, and Steve wanted to pull it shut again right away.

The other man stood in front of him only wearing some very loose sweatpants that were hanging low on his waist and his hair was framing his face, not tamed by the usual hairband.

"Hi," Steve whispered breathlessly and Bucky chuckled.

"Hello. What a suprise to see you."

Steve tried hard not to stare too obviously, but his gaze kept dropping to Bucky's toned torso.

A couple minutes passed before Bucky cleared his throat and Steve snapped out of his reverie.

"Sorry. Oh God, I am sorry. I just – actually ... well – your jacket. Yes. The jacket. I wanted to bring it back."

Once he realized that he was babbling, Steve shut his mouth and held the jacket out towards Bucky, staring down at his feet.

Bucky's hands brushed over his when he took the jacket and Steve bit down on his lips, trying hard not to blush, but failing miserably.

"Do you want to come inside? I just made coffee. You can have a cup if you want."

"Uh, yeah. Okay."

Steve was still dimly aware that Natasha was back at his flat, but she had told him to have fun so it was surely okay for her if he stayed with Bucky for a little while.

-

"Are you alright?"

Bucky's voice was low and Steve nodded, scooting a bit closer to the other man.

They had settled on the couch eventually – Bucky still shirtless – and Steve was somehow intrigued by Bucky's prothesis. He had felt bad for looking at first, but Bucky had told him that it was okay.

"Can I – can I touch it?"

Bucky smirked, but nodded his head once, turning a bit so he was facing Steve.

Slowly, Steve reached out and touched the cool metal of Bucky's hand, slowly running his fingers up over his lower arm to his elbow, resting his hand there.

"Can you feel that?"

"No. The only thing I would feel would be extreme heat or cold. I can't feel your touch."

"Hm," Steve nodded and leaned closer, inspecting all the small metal plates.

"What about your fingers?"

"I can feel with them. Like – I can feel when I touch something, but not texture or anything."

Steve just nodded again, trailing his fingers up to Bucky's shoulder and then, with a little bit of hesitation, to the scarring around the prothesis.

"Tell me if I hurt you."

Bucky laughed and Steve looked up at him, puzzled.

"It hasn't been hurting in ages now. It used to, yes, but not anymore. It's just – actually.. I think it just looks terrible and usually don't let people touch those scars."

Steve pulled his hand away, feeling guilty all of a sudden.

"I am sorry."

"No don't be. It's alright. I said I usually don't let people touch them. You're not people and you're certainly not usual."

Steve smiled and touched Bucky's shoulder again, fascinated by the different feeling of the cool metal and Bucky's warm, soft skin.

The other man suddenly leaned in, his cheek pressed against Steve's temple.

"That actually feels pretty nice."

"You have lovely skin, Bucky."

Laughter rumbled deep in his chest and he kissed Steve's temple, wrapping his left arm around him to pull him closer.

"You're lovely Steve. Not my skin."

Steve blushed and couldn't help it but laugh.

"Thanks. You're skin is still very nice."

"Okay. Listen, I hate to let you go, but I have to go to work and you also mentioned that Natasha is visiting so maybe you shouldn't leave her alone too long."

Steve sighed and let go of Bucky, regretting the sudden loss of the other's warmth.

"Yeah. Right. You're right."

He got to his feet, brushing his hand one last time over Bucky's metal arm before he jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Bucky smiled up at him, his eyes bright.

"This was nice, thank you."

"It was nice for me too, no need to thank me. See you around."

"Yeah, you will..."

Steve chuckled and turned to leave the flat, but Bucky called after him shortly before he reached the door.

"Oi Steve! What are you doing coming Saturday?"

He looked around at Bucky, thinking for a moment.

"Nothing. Why?"

He smirked when Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes.

"I want to take you out on a date. How about dinner in a fancy restaurant?"

"Sounds good, but you'll have to pay."

"Of course. I wouldn't _invite_ you otherwise, punk."

Steve laughed and then opened the door to finally leave.

"Yeah righ. See you on Saturday then. Jerk."

Just when he closed the door behind himself he heard Bucky call, "Did you just call me a jerk!?"

His answer was a laugh before the door fell shut.

 


End file.
